IC: Nymph (Nynrah) d̺̺̱̹̯ͫ̀͒a̬̳̍̂ͣͦr̺̯̝̺͙͒͒̓ͤ̎k̻͓̼̱̺̿͗͐ͦͧͧ̍̔͊n̙̻̥̣̪͗̒̆̾̂̾͑e͙̮͍̠̲̬͎͂̈̅̓ͮͫ̔ͮs̩̖̳ͤͦͬͬ̂̉̈́̈́̃s͎̹̘̠̔́̇ͭ̚ ̯͉̫̖̳̮̎͐̒͐̈̓ͩͦͨp̞̮̝ͯ̊a̺̝̗͒̅̎̏͒ͨ͛̔i̹̗ͭ͒ͤ̄͊n͓͕ͧ̀̀̾̊̓ͤ͛ ̲͙̩̣̮̙̹͖ͮ́ͯ͒̿s͈̹̘̫͔͚̜̐ͦ̊̃͒̏͋u͉̲̣̖͎̠̗̞͊ͧ̃f̖̪͉̺̪̣̫͉̔̋̊͌̑̍̚f̖͍̭͚̞̯̟ͬ͛e̗͙̩͉͙͔͐ͭͮr̭̗̦̳ͧͨ͂ͭ͊͊̈́ͧ̀ī͍̤̲̦̥̉̂̍̈̚̚n̮͕̺̟͛ͪ́g̭̞ͪͧ ͇͈̥̮̤̝̑̒ͮ͊̃ͣ ̖͕̺͋̔ͩ̍̉̋d͖͓͓̪̞́̅á̤͇̥̘̖͙̺͇̟̆r͎͐̂̋k̬̬͇̞̰̬̹ͨ̈́̾ͪ́ͨn͎̰̟̤͑̇͊̇̋͒ͨe̗̦̗͎ͣͩͯ̂̐̅̿ͮ̾s̤̭̅͆ͮ̉s͕͓͋͂ͦ̐ ̠̒p͎͙̮̪ͮ́ͯ̔̿ͮͬ̓a̘͍̥͍͕͙̤ͪͮ̑ͭ̏ͭ̓î͉̭̜̘̮̈͐͂ͥn̮̩̠͕͖̮̪̮ͦ͛͗͂ͫ̔ ͎̜̙̰͉̝͈̳̈̆̊̽ͩͯ̇̀s̱̝̞̼̮̊̾͗̀ͭu̥̞̦͍̗̐̏̈́̇̊ͅf̯̤͖ͩͫ̈́͐ͦ̂͛̏̊f̲̜ͫ̎̿e͙͛̓ͮ̔̆̎r̗̱̖͈͈̼͉̺̉̓̿̐̅i͙̜̘̫̔͂͛n̹̻̖̘̼̠̱͍͋̈̅̅ͣͅg͖͕̱͆ ͉̤̹̳̥͆̑̌͂͊̀͂͐ ̲͖̦̙̲̊͋ͧͤͩ͂̅̅̿d̟̯̟̣̱̺̜ͭ͐̿̎ͦ̚a̖̗̻̫͚̬̱ͦr̻͋̍ͥ̿̄k͈̳̟͇̠ͮ̔͊n̙͔͉̍ͅe̻̪͕ͫ̆̓́̅̍͆ͮs̼̘͉͔̠̦ͪ̆ͤ͛̓̿̈́s̫̮͉̱̦̊ͪ̍ͬ ͈̮͓͍̲̱̺̏̄p͚̦͙̞̖̓ͣa̤͔̺̎̈́̆i̜͔̝͍̪͇̋n͖͙̥͙̪ͩͣ͑͛̑̂̽̉̈ ̟̩̦̬ͤ̆̂̀ͧ̎̎S͈͚̭̪̤̳̻̋U̪͓̤ͩ̽ͦ̊̄ͦF̼̖̩̮̼̘̃ͪF͖͇͙͊ͯ́ͭ̓ͧ͑ͣͅË̫͍̫̙͚̤ͩ̍ͦͮR̙̹͚̲̄̀ͨ̏͆͆̍i̾̈͆ͅn̹̣̺̱̱̱͙̲̔ͧ̈́̉͒̀̏̈g̤̘̳̩͈ͭ͑̿͑ͥ̆ ̝̎̀̅͆ͨ̈́̅̚ ̦̬̗̫̯̙̖͐̊͒̆̄͋̃̏̅d͓̖̗̾ͅa͉̣̼ͧ̈r͓̠͇̋ͥͥ͗k̺͓̹͙͊̔͊̐͒̃ͧn̹̟͊͂e̮̖̝̗̒͒ͤ̉s͈̼̋̎ͩ͒̈́ͤ̈́s̜͍̠̗̯̘̭͖ͤ̂͑ ̣̰͙̻̠̘̊͒͊̋̀p̭̹̳ͣͭ͐ͮͫ͂̄̚ả͙̠̗̳̮̳ͭͨͥ̚ĩ̟͚̙͖n̖̪̖̩ͣ͑̄͆͋ͤͯͫ͋ ̥̬́͂̐̏ͨ̇͂͆̚S̖͇̺̹̙͎͊̏͒ͥͅU̖̗̻͈̞͉̓̍͒ͬ̎F͉̠͎̪͙̺̓͂̐F̮̝̺̥̞͔͐ͅE͚̳͍̘͔͕̒ͮ̃ͨ͗ͩͪṞ̺̲̂̾ͪ̉ͦ̌I̪̙̪̤̳̼̫̲ͧ͆̔͒͂̆N̘̜͗̇̐͋͊̓̐̏̌G̠̗͈̑̍̑̈ ̺̖̺͕̲͒͛̂ͬͮ ̥̰͎̈ͯ̄̋ͧ͛ͩd̹̻̣̬̪ͦ͑̈̐͐̋́ͅả̭͚ͭ͋̏̏̚r̻̘̰̰̩̝̻̾̓̒̾ḵ͉͛͌̎͂ͮ̏̓ͅǹ̦̪̜̞͍̏e͙͉͙̟̹̟̲͈͎ͯͥs̟̣̝̦͍̋͌ͩ̈́ͧ̃ṡ̮͓͍̼̖̺̍̇͛ͮ͊̂ͭ ̗̞͆̎͑͂͑P̼̺̹̦̖͉̫̩͂̾́͋̊̍A̼̰ͭ̋̀̈́ͪ͗İ͖̻͖͓̩͓̲̎͋̀N̼̰̗̻̜̫̙ͭ̽̑̽̿̽̿ ̳͆̔̂̀S͎͇̗̙̬̩̲̬͛U̙̿̐ͨ̌̄F͕͍̪̣ͬͪͮͅḞ͕̼̣E͖̭̖̖̥̝̥͔̔̏ͤR̖̱̫̉̊ͣI̦͔̞̎ͫ͊̑ͩ̊̊́N͍̣̒̂ͨ̚G̤ͬͨ ̪̲̱̞̘̣̟͙͒͒̓̄̂ͪ̈́̑ ͇̗͖̼̰͎̍ͣͨd͇̿̃ͣ͂ͭ͋a͆ͣ̍ͅr͍͇̃̏k͇̝̎͊͒̊͐̾̓n͉̙͚̲̙̯̺͓ͩ͆̾ê͔̘̋ͨs̗̑̇ͫ̇͂ͭ̋ͣs̲̙̫̮͓̙͖̎̐͒̒̒̿ͮ ͉̙̟̟͇̓͊̃P̙͇̜̠̖̍͆̓̉ͫ̌͊ͫͅẠ͕͖̯̝͊ͫ̂I͎̋̒̅̉N̻̻͓̹̜̪̝̑͌ ͍̥̥̟̫̰͛ͮS̞̫͓̗ͧ́̇ͬ͂Ȕ̖̖̟̘͖̣̺̆̔̏ͯͧ̃̇ͧF͈̈̒̈̑͛ͯF̫̩̤̰͕̜̽̃̐͌̂ͧ̉ͅE̗̥͍͎͚̐R͚̰̟̘̆ͥ͛͛́́̋ͅI̭̤̒ͬ̌ͯ̽̓͗Ṇ̣̍̽ͧ̃̚Ğ̼̠͌̒̅ ̠͖͕̜̖͈ͤ̽̽̎͌̾ͮͯ ̳͉̯̩͍̝̓ͩ̂ͫ̋̽̈́ͥd̳̠̜̗̟͙̒̀̋̒â̳̭͎̎͋͒̈́͆ṛ̝̗̘̩̋́͊ͮ͑ͭk̞̞ͭ̒ͬͭ͛̂̇̓n͚̝͖̖ͫ͌͐̍͛ͣ̅̽̓e̬̣̙ͪͨ̋͑̋ͫ̍̚s̼͙͇ͭͮs͙͚͈͂ͫ̔̄͑̚ ̻̲̹̗̈́ͦ̓́̔̂̒ͅP̥̣̗̬̺̠͖̭ͦ̈ͅA͈̹͕̗̰͈̖͎̔͑͗ͫ̚I͚͙͕̣̻ͤ̅͋̄̄̾ͯN̠̗̳̪̻̝̝̒͐̒̆͋͌̓Ṣ͙̫͍͉̜͕͊̀̔̔͛U̜̠̇̾̐F̗̰̤̻̠̗͍͆ͩF̙͖̪͓̗̖̈́́̐̓͗E͓͓̗̻̣͚̠̩̒̔̌ͣ̋͌̏̚R͉̲̠̬̝̖͍̺͆I̘̙̗̫̬̺̻͔ͤ̓̍̄N̠̟̄Ğ͚̤̗̥͓͎̣̱̖͌͐̈́̿͌̒ ͈̮̭͗͗̇̈́̀ ̤̊̉̎͂͆ͨ̒̑D̦̭̦̳̓́A̬̞̱̬̹̪̲̞͉͐̍̓͒̋R̙͖̜̍̄͗ͩͣ͒ͮͣK̝̬͛ͤ̏̇ͩ̅ṇ̝̥͓̠̎͛͗̉e͚̠̻̪͇̯͙͓̩ͨ̾̃ͯ̂s͉̤͇̠̻͆̆̂ͣ̏ͯ̋̍́s̬̫̗ͣ̑̈́ͩ̂͛̊̾ ̻͎͕̲̗̯͉͗̋̊ͨ̑̽ͬP̲͖̼̯̦̣ͦ̃̈̈́ͅA͚̙̼̠̖͋͊͒̏̂͐Ĭ̙̺͕̟̒̈́̏N̪͉ͨ̍ͩ͗S̹̰̣͖͕͎̯͔͙ͮ̃U̳͖͙̲͖̮̣̝ͬͦ͊̋̎ͣͤ͆̋F̗̼̤͆̒ͭ̅̄̅̏̄F͔̤̳͂̈́Ē̖͈͎͚̗̦̞̏ͭ̒ͣ̽̀͌R͙̋̒I̟̩̰̍ͮͯ͛̑̏̽̀ͅN̻̺̟̝͖̻̥̯ͧ̒̋̍ͣ̌͗G̹̹̠̰̼̉̐ ̗̰ͨ̀̍ ̙̮ͨͩ̓D̳̤̓̉͆ͧ̓̂ͨ̈͆A͉̦͓̭̮̽̓̔ͦͮR̪͚͇͈͔̫ͭK͇̯̬̭̹̰̿͑̑̈̒̌̈́̑Ń̼̠̗̦͓̦̿͗ͩ̌ͮË̠́̀̍S͙̲̜͍̤͇̑̀̑̈́̓ͨS̱̙̜͍̰̘̜̈́͑͊͂ ̹̜̑͂̈́͒͑ͥ̔P̠̙̜͔͔̻͙ͬͪ͑̾͑ͪ̓ͮÄ̳̼̘͚̟̭ͬ̂̏ͯͅI̼ͧͥN̹̜̠̪̈ ͕͉̟̭ͮ̆ͪ̽ͨ̽S͔̫̜̗͓̭̓ͭͅU̝̹͖͓͈ͧ̓̅̚F͚͉͕̜͎̩̥̣́̚F̺̺̟̫ͨ̎ͫ͑̃̽̈́ͦ͗Ẹ͔͖̝ͥ̽͐̇͐̑̆̚R̖̮̱̓͂I̖͉̫͖̙̠̬̍ͭ̃̾ͅN̠͔͚̠̍G̪̰̺̯̹̳̫ͩͧ͛ͩ̑ͅ ̖͇̱̠̥̣̬͇̟̃ ̮̠̱ͨ̍ͨ̌̒ͣͮ̊̚D̹͉͍͉̲̲͚̓ͬͧǍ̟̹̗̥̼̊ͨ͛̃ͭR͇̹͕̭̱͚̦̼̈̉̍ͨK͇̬̦̼̱̐́ͨÑ̺̥̗̖̣ͫ̂ͩ̋E̘̻͚̹̝ͭ̈́̀̑S̖̼̱̱̓̉ͯ͌̏̒S̲̞ͥ̍͛P̫͉͖̜̼͕ͩ̀ͥ̄̓̿͗ͅA͇͋̍̿́ͧ̐I̞̠͔̲͉̋̾ͫ͋̀N̺̦̹͍̟͓̳ͭS̼͙̣̥̞͔̼͖͛̎̓̒͋ͮŨ̲̥̪̣F̖͚̠̉ͨͅF̠͖͙͎̯ͤ̃E̬̩͖͔̠̿ͨͭ̇̃ͫṚ̩͎̋͌̇ͥͭÍ̞͖̣̣̤͚̄ͫ͒ͮ͌N͎̟ͩͦ̔ͪ͒Ḡ̘͔̦̥̟͎̱̭̰̋̈͊ͩ͋ͧ̀̃ ͔̻̭͎͈̻͑̾̈ͫͦ͑ͣ̚ ̣̝͋̓̍̃͐D̻͔̆͋̃̑ͣ̂ͧ͂A̼̬̳̪̙̫͍̤͒̊̔̉̓R̜̣̰̲̮̠͊̊͒ͦ̊̽̒ͫK̺̰̗͊̎̈́́̈ͪͬ̈́̀Ṅ̳ͯ̑͗̚È̦̱̘̠͔̝̘̣̐ͯͥͫS͖̰͈̅̽͑S̹̘̤͔͈̪̠̙̍̏̈́̋P͈̤̠̺͂̒A̪̗̖̣̬͚ͦ̐̈́̽̉ͅI̪̰̖̥͔͚̲͆̏ͪ̀̓̾͛N͇̼̼̍ͫͨ̂S̼̯̪̪̜̤̗̎̅̋ͤ̌͋Ṷ̣̟̟̞͚̜̒̄ͯͭͤ͌͋ͩ̾F̤̣̥̭͉̦̊̿͊F̼̤̳̜̞̪̯̪̣͐ͬE̙̰͉̰̰̳͑̓̀̔R̟̥͔͚̳̩̾̽̓ͫ̇Ĭ̪̦̥̹͇̜̇͛̔͊͗ͮ̂N̥͉͖̬̼̗̒̓͛͗͆̋G̱̦̼̼̲͕̓͆͋ͤ͛̓ͤ͗̔ ̤̼̜̗̱͔͇ͤ͑ͦ̂ͅͅ ̱̯̫͚͗͑͒͆̿̔̽̑D̳̺͕̣̫͗ͫ̅͐̿͆ͧA͇͙͙̼͒̏̏͋ͩͮR͍̫̉ͫ̆̉̄ͤK͉̪̝͈̘͚̹͖ͩ̅͌̎̂̆̾͑N͈̯̻͈̜̺͐̈́̇̃̄ͬ̇̚E͖̜̲͓͇͎ͭ͗̽ͮ͗ͦͩS̙̟̳͓̥͉̿ͣͥ̆͊S͕͚͈̥̯̟̗̳ͪ̎̚ͅP̼̹̝̣̖̋ͤ͆̒A͚̮͕͓͋I̭̲̥̫͎̿̄ͩͩ̔Ñ̤̤ͩ̄̂̍͌Š̩͚͇͓̏̔͒͛ͩͅU͚͈͍̝ͬ̅͌ͣ͂F͍̬̣̱̜̻͔̊Ḟ̘̫̼̭̺̩̈͋E͔̙̺̯̯̰̫̗ͮ̅ͣŔ̻̼̄ͣ͐I̼͓ͯ̏ͫͅN̼̤̯̗͔̹͗̍ͣ͌̄̉G̺̫̹̺̥̝̟̱ͧͭͬ̉̆ͥ̿ ͔͉̒́ ̯̬̲ͪ̓ͧ͋ͤD̰̲̲͚̼̾ͭ̈̇̎͌̈̿̚A̼̤̞̣̲͇̳͎̐̉͑͆R̟͎͈̩̥̖̘͔̋͛̓ͪ́̽K̩̱̻͖̮̫ͭ̑͊͌̀̓ͩͣͅN̲̟̻̾ͫ̈́ͬ̅̚Ḛ̮̭̜͓̝̪ͦ́͆̽̆ͪ̑̃S̱̎̈ͅS̼͈̮̰̻̍̽̒ͭ͑ͅ ͙̿̈͒̒͋ͬ̂ ̺̣͙̹͛͗̀̓P̺͎̦̀̓ͅẠ̲̩͈̗̖̥̤͛͐̾ͮ̾́̓̏ͅÍ͎̳͍͉̖̘͉́̿̅ͤͩͭN͎̩̲̤̿͛̓ͪ ̯̮̞̼̗̝͉̔́ͥ͊̽̎ͮ ̬̟̟͔ͫ͛̃͂̑͑S͈̩̜̭̠̗̟ͭ̓ͦ̎͑̍͆̇̓Ú̗̩͍̰͈̱͂̿F͉͙̄̏ͣ̐̑ͦ̏̐̉F̣̪̺̲̦̓ͥ̔̄̌ͦ̔E̲̱ͩ̋͛̀́ͧŘ͔͉̥͒̋͋̅ͯͬI̞͎̙̱̙̥̜ͨ̌̇̈́̐ͣN͈͈̭̤̺͇̖̼ͭ̑̾̉̌G͙͓̈́ͧͪ̄͌ͣͦͦͮ I wake from a troubled sleep, the lost images of his time with Mother burning, burning, burning, buring, burningburningBURNING in the crevasse of my mind that the old times have become. I blink, and the forest around me is on fire, and I scrabble to my feet, and my armour is grey, and in my hand I clutch the blade that took so many lives, and upon my faceplate is HIS insignia, and my hands are stained with innocent blood, and and and and and and death lies around me Then I blink, and the clearing is no longer burning, and I stand once more in the present, trembling in the early morning air as I reassert myself in now. On the ground still is Fior, looking up at me, alarmed at my sudden awakening. I drop to the floor next to her, back in myself, not reliving what he once did under Mother's orders. "Just a dream," I say in response to her concern. "Just a dream," he whispers.